Ripped, Severed, Torn
by ChoCedric
Summary: A guttural scream of pure and raw agony tore from his lips as he collapsed on top of the body of the person who meant everything to him. George's reaction to Fred's death.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Ripped, Severed, Torn

By: ChoCedric

As George Weasley prepared to enter the Great Hall, his heart filled with dread. His family was way too big for every single one of them to survive this war; it was almost a given that at least one of them wouldn't make it. George, one of the fun-loving twins who barely let anything get him down, was somber as he saw people carrying broken bodies in their arms. He and Fred had gotten separated during the fighting; Fred had gone with Percy, and George had stayed with Lee Jordan.

As he entered the Great Hall, his suspicions about his family were horribly confirmed. He saw a mass of redheads crouching over a body. His mother was sobbing hysterically, lying on the person's chest; his father was stroking her hair and trying to comfort her, even though his own tears were flowing. Ginny was being hugged by Percy, who was white and shaken. Bill was also there, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked.

Oh God, thought George. The dead person has to be Ron. He knew that it was Ron, that it couldn't possibly be Fred. The thought of his twin dying was utterly impossible. They'd been born at almost the same time, and their plan was to leave the world together. Grief overwhelmed him as he walked closer to his family, preparing to see the body of his youngest brother.

But no. George's face filled with unimaginable horror as he saw who it really was lying on the floor. His handsome twin brother, the brother who'd always shared jokes with him, who'd been there by his side through thick and thin, was lying there, his lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling, the remains of his last laugh still etched upon his face.

Cold. So very, very cold. It was as if a dementor had invaded George's soul, sucked out every happy thought from him. No. No. No. Fred couldn't be dead. This had to be some kind of sick prank. Anger engulfed him then; couldn't Fred see that this was no time for a joke like this? He'd taken it way too far; why would Fred just lie there while his entire family was weeping over him? How could he just watch this?

George knelt beside his twin's head and roughly shook his shoulders. "Fred!" he cried. "Fred, wake up, twin mine!"

But there was no response from the lifeless body of Fred Weasley. His family's wails grew even louder, and Bill walked over to George, putting a hand on his shoulder. "George, little brother," he said, the sadness in his eyes and voice unbearable to see. "Georgie, he's gone."

"No, he's not," said George at once, shaking his head. "You're wrong, Bill. He's not gone. He's just joking. See, watch this." He shook Fred's shoulders again, chasing away the fact that they were so stiff and cold. "Fred, wake up!" he said in a louder voice. But still nothing from Fred. George's pleas for his brother to awaken, to stop staring fixedly at the ceiling like that, grew more and more desperate as there was still not a peep from Fred. "DAMMIT, FRED, WAKE THE HELL UP!" he finally screamed, hitting him hard.

By this point, Bill was trying to mutter comforting words in George's ear. "Georgie, I'm so sorry," he said through his sobs. "There's nothing you can do, he's gone."

"NO!" George roared, batting Bill's hand away from his shoulder roughly. "FRED, THIS IS BEYOND A JOKE NOW! IT's NOT FUNNY ANYMORE!"

But still, Fred lay on the ground, the slight smile never leaving his face.

Suddenly, George stopped shaking Fred, and he went as still as a statue. His family's howls of grief were still punctuating the air, and it was then, as George looked into Fred's open eyes, that it began to sink in. Fred, his companion, his twin brother, his everything, was gone. And it was agony that George Weasley had never felt before in his entire life; it didn't even compare to when he'd lost his ear. This was soul-crushing, heart-shattering agony. Half of his soul had been ripped, severed, torn from his body. A guttural scream was released from his mouth as he began to punch every part of Fred that he could reach. "YOU BASTARD!" he yelled. "YOU PROMISED! YOU PROMISED WE'D LEAVE EARTH TOGETHER, AND YOU WENT WITHOUT ME! HOW DARE YOU!"

"It's all right, George, everything will be okay," Bill tried, trying to pry George away from Fred.

But George wouldn't have any of it. "Get the bloody hell away from me, Bill, dammit!" he snarled. "FRED! FRED! FRED!" He began to claw at his own skin, at his own hair, pulling clumps of it out. Howls of pure and utter anguish rose from his lips as memories flashed before his eyes. He and Fred, playing pranks on their siblings. He and Fred in Hogwarts together. Umbridge's reign. Preparing the joke shop. Running the joke shop. Everything he'd experienced with his companion came rushing to the surface. Bill still tried to get him to come to his senses, but George was too far gone; he was too much of a wreck. He continued to push Bill away ferociously, glowering at him with hatred.

And then another vicious thought entered his mind. Percy! Percy had been with Fred, had probably gotten to hear his last words. If it wasn't for Percy, George would have been there to reassure his brother in his final moments. But his brother, his Ministry-loving, family-disowning brother had gone and taken that away from him.

By this time, Ron and Hermione were with the huddle of Weasleys. Hermione was crying freely on Ron's shoulder, and George felt a surge of corrosive, volcanic anger flow through him. Ron and Hermione had each other, Harry and Ginny had each other, his parents had each other, Bill and Charlie had each other, and Percy had Penelope. But who would George have for the rest of his life? No one, that's who! It was true that everyone George had thought of were romantically involved or brothers, but he didn't need romance. All he needed was his brother, the person who meant the most to him in the entire world. And because of this damned war, Fred would never smile again, never laugh again. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" One final roar of despair left George's mouth as he collapsed on top of the one person who was absolutely everything to him.

And then he went completely silent.

xxx

From that point on, George Weasley was a broken man. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes did open again, but it was never the same without Fred. For a long time, George destroyed every mirror he could find; he couldn't look in one anymore without seeing his brother's face, despite the fact that Fred had had both his ears to the end. He attempted suicide a few times, but his family caught him at it and made him see a counselor. He pretended that the sessions were helping to appease them, but the whole time, he was living without half of himself. The hollow ache inside him never dimmed, and he despised going to bed every night staring at the empty bed of his soulmate. For it was George's belief that soulmates don't always have to be involved romantically; he'd all along known that Fred was the one person who completed him. And without him, he was a shell of the person he used to be. He had been ripped, severed, torn, and only his reunion with his twin would make him whole again.


End file.
